


Hope Assassin

by 98tuffluv



Series: Heart Assassin [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Assassin AU, Assassinstuck, Death, Eventual Smut, Kidnapping, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Sorry Not Sorry, Stockholm Syndrome, and other things, good hell, idfk, its sad af, oh fuck someone dies, probably, the titles of these stories are god tier puns, this storys gonna be a mess so buckle up, will probably add more characters, wow look at all my relevant tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:41:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6318670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/98tuffluv/pseuds/98tuffluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events that went down at the English mansion, Jake and Dirk disappear, leaving an anxious and pissed off Bro and Dave working with the sadistically cheery F.B.I agent in charge of Dirk's case. </p><p>Set after the event in Heart Assassin, you'll want to read that first before you jump into this one!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waking Up

A sharp bump had Dirk banging his head on the side of the door, cursing softly as his eyes flung open, head swimming. He didn't recognize where they were, mind still a little foggy even as things started to come back into focus. Every muscle still ached tremendously, but it was much better than it had been when leaving the hospital. The blond sat up, moving one hand to cradle the new piece of harmed skin as his head throbbed briefly. A quick glance to the side assured him that Jake was still the one driving, his emerald eyes leaving the road for a quick second to check to see that he was okay before the other occupant of the car smiled sheepishly.

"Apologies," he spoke brightly, seeming glad to have Dirk awake once more, "this patch of road is in a tad bit of disrepair, but everything will be alright shortly. Just a few more miles and we'll be set to depart off to our new little home! I'll tell you it's a right amazing place, beautiful scenery, but slightly exotic wild life by the which I can assure you you've never seen. Bit of a rowdy bunch, but they're not all that bad once you get to know them-"

"Jake." Dirk cut him off, the slight frown of his face deepening, "Where are we going exactly? And why am I in the same car as you? How in the fuck did you manage to get me out of the hospital?" he looked at the brunette, eyes narrowing into small slits, "Because I'm pretty damn sure that I wouldn't have left if I'd realized that Bro was the one sleeping on that couch."

Jake's bright and cheery attitude slowly slipped off of his face, dripping down into a more serious expression as the muscles in his jaw tightened, "Ah bugger, I'd hoped the amnesia would have lasted just a tad bit longer. Not that it matters in the slightest Strider, I've got no intention of letting you out of here, and you've got not means to conquer that task on your lonesome. You'll be staying with me for a very long time."

The once infamous assassin's lips turned downward and he stiffened in the seat, getting to simply fling himself out of the door, "Why do this? What could you possibly hope to gain from capturing me? Holding me hostage? I thought you'd changed," his tone was blatantly accusatory, the words meant to be aimed like swords, but they were shot down with the next spoken words.

"Changed? Oh don't be ridiculous Dirk," the wielder of the bullet-firing weaponry replied, "I killed father as a part of my plan. It was time for him to step down and the only way to prove my strength as a leader was to kill him. You...well, you were helpful in getting father out in the open, slightly earlier than anticipated, but it needed to be done, and distracted him. After that, I simply claimed you as a prize. A trophy for my victory if you'd like to call it that. Leadership can get rather lonesome, besides, I'm sure with a little alteration you'll more than happily accept this new life," Jake looked at Dirk, the other man turning his head to glare out the window, "Now chin up you stubborn mule, things could be a hell-of-a lot worse for you at the moment. After all, you single-handedly slaughtered all of the men in that building. There are plenty of others, now under my command might-I-remind-you, who would gladly see you tied up and tortured for several months on end. Believe me, they aren't pleasant blokes to deal with."

Silence filled the cab of the car before Dirk yanked on the door handle, somewhat confused when it didn't open. He smashed his arm into it, regretting the mistake as air hissed through his teeth due to the sharp inhale of breath he'd taken to keep from shouting on his pain. Jake simply watched on, almost amused while the other put up a brief struggle before having to give up on his plan. That didn't mean that he was done, of course, it just meant that he had to come up with a different course of action. More than likely, he'd wind making a break for it when they got to wherever they were going.

"Finished yet? I haven't seen this much fight in a long time," Jake snickered, shaking his head as he got back to paying attention to the road, purposely hitting a pothole in order to force Dirk's had back into the door-frame, "There's no point you know," he added, "only certain people can open these doors and soon we'll be somewhere that you can't run away from. That's the benefit of having your own personal island out in the middle of the ocean."

"Oh hell no," he twisted in his seat, going to try to kick out the window before a rough hand smacked him over the head, immediately retreating back to the steering wheel.

Jake shot him a nasty look, "Quit this blasted fighting! You'll learn to live with this situation now calm yourself down before I shoot you in the damned leg!"

Dirk shot him a glare, "I am not living in the middle of fucking nowhere you cocky, son-of-a-"

Suddenly, his vision was swimming, his aching head thwacking against the window with a bit of blood running down the side of his face as he was rendered unconscious. He fought it off as long as possible, only having time to see Jake tucking a pistol back into his pocket before his succumbed his throbbing pain and allowed his conscious mind to render it numb by slipping into darkness.

==> Be the traitorous douche

You are now the traitorous douche, a.k.a: Jake English.

Yes, the troubled little Englishman with a knack for cunning and lies, something that no one particularly expected of him. Had he grown up under different circumstances, he may have been kinder, embracing a more naive take on life, but he had been raised with near weekly assassination attempts, and a father who was more likely to rip off his lips than listen to him speak. Jake hadn't led an easy life by any means, but he was finally taking the reigns of it, and no one was ripping those from his hands. Never again would he have to listen to anyone.

In all honesty, Jake had been waiting for the right time to strike. He'd been planning it for months, years even, working out every flaw, every kink, coming up with any way that his own little assassination could go wrong. Then, came Dirk. At first, Jake had thought of him as just another assassin, but there was something about the prick that had gotten the drug-lord's heir to enjoy his company. The darker-haired male had come to terms with it when Dirk had been under his interrogation, but he'd first started getting inklings of the feeling when he'd been followed into the bathroom so long ago. 

He'd let Dirk live. He didn't know why, but he did, and he nearly wound up regretting that decision. The blasted moron didn't know how to take his good graces, showing up, and forcing Jake's hand far to early. But, it had worked out. Against all odds, against every calculated movement that was supposed to have happened, it worked.

Originally, he had been planning to kill his father off, and take swift, but quiet control of the industry. No one would know his father was dead until he was ready. After he was in command, he intended to ensure his own complete security, isolating himself, and only contacting a small handful of trusted men to carry out his orders. He would have appeared when necessary of course, but now...now he didn't need to do any of that. He'd proved himself and he'd gotten the final piece of his plan in the process, which had been capturing Dirk.

He wasn't going to tell anyone, but he'd desired companionship, and what better way to get it than to bring a fully-trained and capable assassin into his little group? Of course, he'd keep careful eye on Dirk at first, he didn't want to wind up dead because of a foolish mistake, but Jake knew that once they were on the island, Dirk wouldn't dare to do anything to him. If he did, he'd be stranded, and it wouldn't be long before someone else took Jake's place and put an end to the blond's life as well.

Another glance assured him that Dirk was out of it and hopefully would be for a long time. It wouldn't take long to get to the private helicopter that he owned (well..one private helicopter), but the trip there would take a few hours. Of course, if Dirk woke up, Jake could find a different way to keep him out, or just tie him up, but the new head of business was not thrilled to turn to that option. He wanted Dirk to trust him, he needed Dirk to trust him so that he could have a decent comradery with his new pal. Or...eventual pal. He'd have to work on that a little since Dirk had evidently recovered his memories.

But none of that mattered. Jake had what he wanted and absolutely nothing was going to take that from him.


	2. Fuck the Government

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen.

"Mr. Strider, I can't legally allow you to murder someone."

God damn cops. Who did they think they were, the law? No more than stuck up assholes if you were to ask Bro. No help whatsoever. Had to be cautious every step of the way when his fucking brother was being abducted by a wealthy drug dealer. Couldn't risk anyone getting hurt when the kid already suffered from a concussion and other injuries while Dave had to deal with a bullet wound. Didn't want to stress anyone when he was gripping the hospital bed hard enough to nearly leave indents in the stainless-steel.

The F.B.I agent hadn't left them alone for long, coming back to do some sort of paperwork that she'd forgotten about. How she was supposed to do any of it while blind, he didn't know, but she did it. He had to admit, she was pretty impressive. Her blindness didn't stop her in the slightest, she just seemed more cocky because of it in reality. It was a little weird, but who was he to judge? She did her job well, probably better than some of the other fuckbags in the government...

"I ain't askin' for legal permission," he replied, looking down at her. Despite the fact that he was a good foot taller than her, she still had an air of authority. Naturally, the two of them clashed, and turned her head up towards him, probably guessing where his head was as she jammed a finger into his chest, making him stumble back a bit. That earned a chuckle from Dave and he made a mental note to poke him in the side the whole time that they were searching for Dirk.

Officer Pyrope, or Terezi as she'd introduced herself, had a look on her face as though she'd just whacked her cane through a giant piece of dino-shit, "You are not getting involved with this case and that is final. Go home, take Dave, and lie low. We'll get Dirk back before you know it."

Bro gritted his teeth, doing his best to not chuck a vase of flowers across the room, "You're nuts if ya think I'm just gonna sit back and wait for you unreliable fucks to take care of the situation."

That got him a cane slamming down on his toes, digging into it just drive it home, and making him cringe despite his amazing self-control, "This case is _mine_. If you have a problem with the way I run it then to bad. I'd suggest you shut your mouth before I make you handicapped too," the way she said it, he didn't doubt that she would, but that didn't stop him.

"I'm not leavin' him to get scooped off the face of the planet by some cocky drug dealer. Either you let me help you or I just ditch Dave at home, call a babysitter, and go after Dirk my own damn self," he spoke in a final sort of tone, hoping to convince her.

She sucked in a breath, ready to blab at him until Dave interrupted, "Dude I don't need a fucking babysitter!"

The two of them looked at the other blond, who was sitting upright, arms crossed over his chest, "Dave lay the fuck down, the adults are talkin'."

"Fuck you Bro, I wanna help find Dirk too. He's my brother as well, in case you forgot in that Alzheimer's ridden brain of your's. I know you're getting old Bro, but come on," he deadpanned and for a fleeting moment, Bro was proud of his aloofness, before the old joke settled in, and he frowned.

"I ain't old ya fuck. Ya can help, but only if ya stay the fuck outta the way, ya understand?" he jabbed a finger towards Dave, who seemed surprised that permission had even been granted, quickly nodding, "Good. Get some rest kiddo. We'll head out in a few hours and I don't need your crippled ass dragging me down."

_Thwack!_

That god damn cane was gonna be the death of him, "Fucking shit! Okay, sorry, damn. No need to smack me on the ass. I know I got a nice one, but I'd like to keep if that way," he frowned, lips downturning quickly as Terezi and Dave snickered at the reaction.

"Fine. I'll take the two of you, but as far as the government's concerned, you two went home. If we get caught, you two take the blame, and I get off nice and free, capiche?" she turned her head, eerily close to guessing exactly where they were standing as they both started to nod before verbally confirming what she'd said, "Perfect," she grinned, lips curling up over her teeth, "I'll come get you in a few hours. I assume you have a car? If not then I'll just take mine, but I'll have to have the driver take a vacation..." she mumbled to herself, picking her cane up off of Bro's foot, and swinging it lightly as she made her way out of the hospital room, leaving the two Striders in her wake.

"I like her," Dave said smugly after she left, laying back against the pillow, "I've never seen someone land a hit on you before and she just did it... _twice_."

Bro fixed Dave with an unamused look, their eyes meeting since the hospital had required them to remove their shades, "Kid, you're lucky ya don't have a broken leg right now."

The younger just smirked, sticking his tongue out before he laughed. It was cut short when Bro whacked his head, causing him to pout faintly as he rubbed the ruffled spot, smoothing his hair back down quickly, "Christ Bro, I know your sense of humor is rotting in hell with the rest of your personality, but that doesn't mean you have to be an asshole."

"Y'know, I bet Cal's feelin' pretty damn lonely at home by himself. Maybe we should bring him with us. You can carry him around, it'll help ya get strong again after you've been a lazy little fuck in this hospital-"

"No!" he shook his head quickly, "I mean. Cal would be cooler if he were just chilling at home. He'll keep watch over the place while we're gone, right?"

Bro snickered, getting the exact reaction that he'd wanted so that Dave would shut the hell up, "That's what I thought kid. Take a nap. I'm gonna go grab some lunch from the Chinese place outside of town," he stood up, ruffling Dave's hair, much to the teen's absolute delight, and went to the door.

"Hey Bro," Dave stopped him, looking at him from the hospital bed. Kid looked pretty damn pathetic, not as bad as Dirk had been though, not as many wires and machines and shit..."do you think we're going to be able to get Dirk back?"

"Kid, if we don't get Dirk back, I'll let ya kick my ass," he said, turning from the room, and heading down hallway of the hospital. He wasn't sure if he'd actually have to hold up on that promise, but he was mildly concerned that they wouldn't be able to get Dirk back. Who knew what resources the English kid had, especially with his dad dead. Obviously, Bro didn't have all the details, Dirk was always so damn quiet about his work, but he could piece a story together from what he had at his disposal. Regardless of any of that, he was going to find Jake, and that little fucker was definitely going to pay for what he'd done to Dirk.

With that in mind, Bro got into his truck, twisting the ignition key, and listening solemnly to the engine rumble to life before settling down to a dull hum. He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking memories of Dirk working his ass off on the vehicle from his mind, and backing out of his parking spot. The eldest Strider checked his wallet, making sure he had his car before making his way to the Chinese take-out place that he and the other two would visit at least once or twice a week.

At one point, he and the kids had been rolling in quite a bit of dough, what with the oldest Strider raking in so much cash from Hollywood. Of course, shit changed after that happened, but it wasn't that Bro had squandered it. In fact, he'd been relatively pissed at Dirk for picking up his assassination career, after all, Bro had been sitting on thousands of dollars to send the kid to college, and that was how he repaid him? Then again, Dirk probably had no idea that that was a thing, but Bro had put away the money for the younger brother's to get a decent education and to start out life with a decent chunk of cash. Besides, they'd made ends meet on just his smuppet commissions, even if he'd had to dip into the "rainy day" fund a couple of times.

Still, that didn't stop them from blowing forty bucks at the Chinese place. They'd always come home loaded with boxes of food and they'd all get sick from eating too much. After they filled their stomach's past capacity, they'd all clamber onto the futon. Dirk would take his place under Bro's right arm, Dave squeezing his way under the other one, and cramming his small form in-between Bro and the arm cushion. All three blonds would just sit there for a while, groaning, and complaining about the shitty food while vowing to never do that again.

Naturally, it became a weekly tradition.

But, it had been a long time since that tradition had been put into place. After Dirk left, it wasn't the same. Kid was always gone on Chinese day, but he and Dave made the best of it. Dave would still worm his way between him and the arm cushion, even with his right side wide open and ready for business. It was nice to have semblance of their life together, even though shit was crazy. What with Bro making his career out of porn puppets and Dirk making drops of cash by killing people...he sometimes wondered how Dave would turn out. Hopefully he'd get a semi-normal career.

All to soon, he was pulled from memory lane, ordering the regular. The people at the restaurant knew him by name at that point and he always made sure to leave all of them with a generous tip before he left, toting all of his food. Today's was a bit larger than usual. He didn't know why he was feeling to charitable, but he decided not to dwell on it, hauling the food out to the truck, and climbing back in.

The rumble started again and he sat in the parking lot for a moment, resting his head on the steering wheel, and closing his eyes.

God he really hoped that he wouldn't have to let Dave kick his ass.

 


	3. Over the Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk hates the ocean, Jake, and basically everything.  
> This is turning into a teen angst fic, I swear.

Dirk ==> Wake Up

Dirk sat up with a start, held back by a restraining belt in a helicopter that was flying above the expanse of the ocean. He tensed up immediately, looking away from the sight of the wide mirth of blue underneath him, and trying to forget the hideous feeling that built up in his gut. Instead, he focused on the interior of the flying object, but he wasn't fond of what he was seeing there either. Jake was watching him from across the aisle, staying silent as he let Dirk wake up and get to his senses. At least, that's what Dirk hoped he was doing. He had an eerie feeling that those emerald eyes hadn't left his features since he'd been placed on the helicopter.

"Good to see you awake," Jake said finally, turning his head away, and looking out the side window with his arms crossed firmly over his chest. Dirk stared at his arms, somewhat amazed at how much thicker they seemed. Of course, he hadn't really been paying much attention to Jake's body. Apparently, his captor was more structurally built than he'd originally anticipated. Still, that didn't mean that he wouldn't be able to kick Jake's ass. At least, he hoped he'd be able to. Just starting to recover from all the injuries he'd sustained at the mansion and feeling weaker than he had in a long time probably wasn't a good sign that he would, "We'll be at the island soon, I think you'll like it there. Plenty of space," but remote. Isolated. It kept Dirk locked away from the outside world.

It just too damn bad that he fucking hated the ocean, or he would have just swam back to land. Or drowned in the process. But no way in hell was stepping into that bit of unknown. There was too much he couldn't see in there, that he didn't no about. It gave him anxiety just thinking about it, let alone soaring above it in a potentially fragile machine that could break down and send them spiraling into the murky water where no one would find them for ages...

"Dirk?" Jake raised a bushy eyebrow towards the other, jerking the blond from his spiral of frightened thoughts, "Did you hear my question?"

He swallowed, looking away from Jake, and staring intently at the metal strip that divided the regular window and the one stuck in the door, "No, but I doubt that I want to. Unless you're asking me if we should turn around and drop me back off at home instead of dragging me off to some island for some who knows what reason."

Jake seemed to ignore the little outburst, only showing a mild sign of irritation as he straightened his back, and looked away from Dirk, "I was asking if you had any allergies. As much as I would love to eat anything and everything, I have limitations, and I need to know your's so I don't wind up poisoning you from a stray peanut."

"No allergies," he said simply, "Don't even get the stuffy noses in Spring or anything," he added, touching the side of his nose for emphasis for his ruffled blond hair was blocking Jake's gaze from his face. He hated that he was actually answering that, that he was being taken to some island in the middle of nowhere. He didn't even know if he was flying over the Atlantic or the Pacific for fuck's sake! That worried him too. If he didn't know where he was, would anybody else? What could he do if no one came looking?

"Good. In that case we won't have to be so strict on your diet. Of course, if you have any requests you're welcome to make them. Anyone on the island is there solely to serve me...and by extent, you," he tagged on the last bit, which made Dirk's stomach churn with a burning hatred, "Don't worry, they're there willingly and are paid very well for being isolated from the rest of society. It's to bad that you have to visit in this manner..." he trailed off for a second, seeming lost in thought before he clucked his tongue, shaking his head, and smiling, "It doesn't matter though. You'll be there anyways. I'm sure you'll like it. Absolutely positive actually-ah! Look, there it is!" he pointed out the front of the helicopter, prompting Dirk to turn his head to see out the front window.

The island was modestly sized, the majority of the middle of it being taken up by a mansion that nearly rivaled the one that Dirk had originally been in. His stomach sank a little, wondering if his stunt had had any sort of impact on the whole operation. Jake had been the one to kill Lord English after all, Dirk did little to aid that aside from maybe distracting the brute as he had his face shoved mercilessly into the wall. He had managed to kill every person in the manor, excepting one person, but it seemed as though a million more people were willing to fill their place. Would he ever actually manage to escape? To do something to end the ridiculous drug empire that Jake sat upon? Dirk had no idea. It didn't seem likely though, seeing as he was going to be stuck on a very remote island with the leader of the enterprise.

"Great," Dirk finally said, sitting back, and resting his head against the head-rest with an exaspperated sigh. Jake looked legitimately saddened by Dirk's lack of enthusiasm, but the blond didn't let that bother him. What the hell had the brunet expected? Parties and confetti? He'd just kidnapped Dirk and was taking him to a random chunk of dirt that he owned. It wasn't as though Dirk was going to be happy about it and he had no intentions of ever being happy about it. He didn't care if he didn't get off the shit hole when he was on his death bed, he was determined to escape. One day.

The thought of escape made him feel better, up until the helicopter jolted, and began making a descent. Dirk gripped the arms of his chair harshly, squeezing his eyes shut, and biting the inside of his cheek as he imagined them plummeting into the ocean. his stomach jerking with each drop. After a second, however, it was smooth, and he was grateful to be back on land. They'd landed on top of the mansion, it appeared that it had its own helipad. How quaint.

He nearly snorted, but stopped as Jake unbuckled him, seeming somewhat confused as to why Dirk hadn't already ripped it off. Dirk himself didn't know, he'd been distracted. He shrugged it off, much like he did with the seat-belt, and climbed out. He ignored Jake's hand that was extended to help him down, jumping out, and landing easily. It felt good to move around again, he could feel his muscles screaming with joy as he stretched and stood, subtly tensing and relaxing them as he took in his surroundings.

Trees were everywhere. It wasn't as though Dirk hadn't been to tropical or forested places before (remote cabins were the best places to meet [or kill] people with enough money to afford them). Regardless, the entire area boomed with life as birds chirped and other various animals seemed to be constantly scurrying around in the bushes. Off in the distance, something growled, sending a flock of dark-feathered birds shooting out from their hiding places in the branches. It was something picturesque, but Dirk didn't feel as though he could appreciate it for what it was.

Behind him, the sun was starting to set, and he vaguely wondered how long it had been since he'd been in the hospital. He jumped from that thought to another as he caught Jake staring at him again. Much like before, Jake didn't seem ashamed to have been snatched up red handed, instead he smiled, showing off his row of perfectly straight teeth (minus the two front ones, it was almost cute that they poked over his lower lip when he smiled...almost), "Well? What's racing through that mind of your's Mr. Strider. I imagine you must have something to say about this area."

"It's...green," Dirk said lamely, walking to the other side of black-paved roof before he could hear what Jake had to say. He sat on the edge of the building, letting his legs dangle. There wasn't any sort of barrier, he could have launched himself off the ledge, but he wasn't suicidal. Besides, he had no idea what was living in the jungle-forest that was kept about twenty feet away from the mansion itself. For all he knew, they were sitting on a scientific gold-mine. He highly doubted it, but it was an entertaining though, and he let his mind run wild with it, ending on a bunch of grotesquely mutated animals that inhabited the island as Jake finally approached, sitting down next to him.

Oddly enough, Jake seemed suited for life on an island. His khaki shorts had decided to make another appearance and a green muscle-shirt helped show off his legs and abs that Dirk hadn't bothered to appreciate before (not that he was doing that then, of course). The paler one looked away quickly, rubbing the back of his neck since he didn't want to have Jake thinking that he was checking him out or anything. Another strange thing happened as Jake stayed quiet for the time being, actually just seeming...happy.

Something occurred to Dirk and he looked at Jake before his eyes flicked away again, the orange-tint in them being enhanced as the sun slowly began to creep down towards the horizon, "What day is it?" he asked.

"I believe we're somewhere towards the end of December," Jake spoke after a second, genuine surprise at Dirk's initiation of the conversation flashing across his face, "Why do you ask?"

Dirk scoffed slightly, a sad smile tugging at his lips as he ran his fingers through his hair, "I missed my birthday," he admitted after a second, "And Dave's. And Christmas," he rambled slightly, hands shaking as he dropped them back to his lap, curling his fingers in tightly, "Now I'm stuck here until...well. Forever I'm guessing. Since I don't appear to have a say in anything except for naming things may or may not kill me if I were to ingest them. But...whatever. I was trying to figure out if I was a legal adult yet."

"It appears that you are," Jake looked at him, tilting his head, "And at about the same time as myself. I'm freshly old enough to take over the company. Actually...the day that you assaulted the mansion was my birthday. It was fairly convenient timing. Things would have been a bit more difficult if you'd launched an attack a few weeks earlier. Not that you really could have given some of the situations you went through, but that was a thought that I'd had. It doesn't matter though, I'm old enough to hold onto my father's title. I don't think I'll go by Lord though. That sounds a bit to...familiar I suppose. Unoriginal. I want to be unique compared to him."

"Well knocking someone unconscious and abducting them from a hospital is a great way to start distancing yourself from that blood-stained name," Dirk's sarcasm dripped heavily as he looked at the other, who seemed oblivious to that.

"You're right! He never did do something like that-..." he paused for a second, the words suddenly clicking as he looked down, "Ah. That...wasn't a compliment. I am sorry it had to be like this Dirk, but I couldn't let you leave. I was planning on taking you eventually anyways, the only difference was that my plan was meant to span out over a much longer time-period than you allowed me to have. That's alright though, it all worked out perfectly in the end. Getting you out of the hospital was a bit of a chore though, I will admit that much. Those damned nurses likely ratted me out, but that's alright. No alarms went off as we left, which...I suppose was the deal I made with them. Still, no one's going to find us here," Jake smiled, seeming happy about that thought as he reached out towards Dirk, who realized what he was doing, and jerked his hand away, scooting to put more space between them as Jake's fingers drooped and then his arm fell as he sighed, "I won't push you Dirk. I won't be that awful, but I want you to enjoy it here at some point."

Dirk shifted uncomfortably before he just stood up, "Where's the entrance to this place so I can find a room and lock myself in it. Without anyone coming by," he shot a glare at Jake, heading to the other side of the roof before he was abruptly stopped by a very firm grip on his wrist that nearly caused him to stumble back into Jake's chest.

"You won't be left alone like that, but you will have your own room," Jake said, expression stony, and somewhat...angered? It was an emotion on Jake that Dirk hadn't seen. At least, not that he could clearly remember. There had been one like that after Jake walked in on the sight of Dirk and his father. Dirk didn't get a very good look at that though and most of those memories were faded. At least he had his memory back.

"Let go of me," Dirk replied coldly, jerking his hand away without to much resistance on Jake's part. His hands settled on his arms as he crossed them, cocking his hip out slightly to the side as he looked at Jake. He realized then that he hadn't had his shades on for a while, leaving his emotions out on display. He didn't mind to much, it was nice to know that Jake could see the bitterness residing in his eyes.

Jake stared back before he let out a sharp breath through his nose, "You don't have to be so damn difficult..." he mumbled, just loud enough for Dirk to barely make out the words, "Very well. I'll take you to your room. Dinner is promptly at eight o'clock. I expect you to be there. I may not be throwing myself upon you, but I brought you here for a reason. Believe it or not, it gets rather lonely in my position, and it would be nice to have someone to conversate with. Be as bitter as you want towards myself, but that is the only thing I ask of you. In return, you're welcome to have nearly anything you want. However," he looked Dirk directly in the eyes, "Any and all internet activity will be monitored, social media will be blocked, chat rooms will be blocked, your location will be securely hidden. A phone won't be necessary for anything other than contacting me or one of the servants in the manor. If you tamper with any of the restrictions set into place, we'll be going somewhere far less pleasant, and you will have no access to technology. Is that clear?"

Dirk was somewhat startled by the lecture, but he tried not to let that show, simply staring Jake down, even though they were essentially eye-to-eye (was he crazy or had Jake grown?), "I want access to metal, wires, tools, all that stuff. I don't want human company, I can make my own servants, but if you need to put restrictions on those to, then feel free too."

"I can allow that. So long as someone supervises while you're building. I should also add that any assassination attempts on your part will be dealt with harshly. You're no longer part of that past profession and it's a good time for you to move on," Jake said simply before he began walking towards a doorway that would lead them down into the house, "Come on. You'll want to shower before dinner."

The blond reluctantly followed him, letting himself get led down through the maze of hallways and white-polished doors. He made a note to himself, memorizing every twist and turn, and trying to manually figure out any way to get the hell out of there.

As he'd promised before, he wasn't going down without a fight, and the sooner he got out of there, the better.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so much fun to write and you guys have been so sweet just. Ah! It makes me happy ^-^. That being said, I'm hoping to keep on top of my fics from now on (I've said this like three times before though and it never works out lmao. I'm sorry. I'm an unreliable author, BUT I TRY), but I'm not promising a regular updating schedule. I just...don't know my own schedule, so it's difficult to say when I'll be ready to write.  
> Either way though, thank you guys for all the sweet comments and kudos, you all are great <3


	4. Dead Man Walking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Strider/Pyrope segment. Dirk/Jake in the next chapter. I'm going to keep having it switch off every other chapter, so. Yeah. Idk if I've mentioned this before and I'm to lazy to check because I just spent an hour and a half writing this lmao.

Dave at least seemed happy to have something other than shitty hospital food to munch on. Then again, Bro wasn't exactly sure how shitty Americanized Chinese food was much better. Oh well, as long as the kid was content Bro really didn't give a fuck if he ate dog shit and thought it was delicious. Actually, he would be very concerned if Dave wanted to eat dog shit. Maybe it was a delicacy somewhere, Bro couldn't imagine that it was, but who was he to assume? Either way, he'd probably have the little man checked out to make sure there wasn't something seriously wrong with his taste-buds/brain if he caught Dave munching on some fresh "chocolate" that the doggy left on the porch for him.

The two of them ate in relative silence. They only spoke to argue over who got the last eggroll, Dave bit half of it off before Bro could stop him, and handed the older the rest. He figured it was a bit of a compromise, even if Dave was being a shit-head about it. Of course, they still had a little while to kill time before they left with the officer. Bro's ass stung once more just thinking about her, but he shrugged it off. No way in hell was she going to land another hit on his ass without his say-so. Wait. That sounded kinky. Fucking hell.

"Bro?" Dave's voice broke his concentration and Bro looked over at him, raising an eyebrow over his shades. Strider Jr. x2 hadn't put his on since he got into the hospital and Bro wasn't sure why. The bright white room had to be bugging his eyes pretty bad. Maybe it was to seem badass? Bro wasn't sure. "What're we going to do after we get Dirk back?" After. Good. Dave was at least being optimistic about getting the middle brother back.

"Take a nice long fucking vacation. Hell, maybe we'll move to Hawaii or some shit. We've got the funds for it. I'll ship ya off to Yale and ya can be a smarty little fuck turd and make us even more cash," Bro leaned back on the couch, tucking one arm behind his head. The other arm went and picked up his baseball cap that he'd left on the arm of the chair, leaving the messy hair underneath exposed for a little while. He slid it back onto his head, relaxing back, and using both arms a sort of pillow for the backside of his skull, "I don't know exactly kid, but we'll do somethin' nice. Just like we used too." he turned his gaze towards Dave, the younger looking at the blanket that covered his lower half.

Dave seemed hesitant to say something, tugging a thin, pink lip between his teeth, and chewing on it before he let the poor thing go, "What if he doesn't want to come home? He'll probably just leave again. He's done it before."

Bro hated to admit it, but Dave had a point. Dirk wasn't exactly one to stick around for the family reunion every year and the other two were lucky to see him once a year. Christmas, birthdays, uneventful weekends...all those times passed without a single sight of Dirk except for some shitty cards that he'd send from the local dollar store. Still, it was something, and the Striders kept every single one of them. Well. Dave did. He kept the box shoved under his bed and pretended that Bro didn't know it was there. Naturally, Bro knew everything that went down in the apartment. Of course, after the raid on the place, he wasn't sure that the shittily desecrated cards would even still be there.

"Then we won't let him go," he said simply, looking away from Dave. The older man pulled a hand out, moving it to yank the brim of his hat down so he could take a quick nap, "Don't worry Dave, we'll all be fine, you'll see," he promised, ducking his head, and making it clear that the younger should shut up and let him sleep. Luckily, it came quickly, and he felt grateful for a little bit of shut-eye.

 

~***~

 

"Bro, wake up," Dave frowned a little, shaking Bro's shoulder harder as he tried to get him to stir from his slumber, "Good hell Yogi, winters over! Time to raid some picnic baskets. And by picnic baskets I mean local drug cartels. Or drug holes. Or whatever they're called. Hell if I know, I'm an innocent little cactus bloom all dragged up into this shit by stupid mafia-oriented family-"

"Kid shut the hell up," Bro groaned, pushing his hat back, and moving a hand up under his shades to rub at his heavy eyelids. Dammit fuckers, open up already, "before I get Al Capone to come back from beyond the grave to grandfather your ass into next Thursday."

Stepping back, Dave gave Bro a second to wake up, looking at Terezi with a sympathetic shrug. Oh wait. She couldn't see that. He guessed he was okay with that? "He'll get up eventually. Maybe by the time we get to the car he'll be off his fat ass. Once he gets up he's like Sonic the hedgehog though. Gotta go fast is our entire family motto. The crest is just a splash of blue with the sanik face in the middle holding up a middle finger to every fucker that tries to fuck up our shit-"

Bro was quick to cut him off, shooting him a slight glare over his shades, "I'm not kidding Dave, shut up." Shit was serious then. Bro rarely used Dave's actually name. "Kid" or "little shit" were the more common nicknames that he had earned over the years. Apparently he'd managed to annoy Bro. Which was an absolutely wonderful thing to do right before a road trip. Dave made a mental note to wear his seat-belt at all times and to sleep with both eyes open. No doubt Bro would pull some sort of stunt on the drive to get revenge for this moment. Although why the asshole was so obsessed with "revenge" Dave wasn't really sure.

"Alright, Dave. Get in the wheelchair. You're still technically injured," Terezi, er...officer Pyrope said, pointing with her cane to the rather unwelcoming thing sitting in the corner. Dave made a face, starting to protest until the cane swung in his direction, narrowly missing hitting him. He wondered how in the hell she knew, but decided not to question it. Obviously, if she was a blind F.B.I agent she had some pretty amazing qualities about her. He sighed, sinking into the wheelchair, and crossing his arms over his chest before he realized that that hurt like hell and stopped it, "Good. Mister Strider, you push him outside. Once we're there, you can go get the car. It's on the curb...or the sidewalk. My parking isn't very accurate."

Bro mumbled something, but Dave didn't catch it. Soon enough, the leather gloved hands were on the handles on the back of the wheelchair, and Dave was being pushed through the hospital hallways. On the bright-side, he'd gotten into some regular clothes; a baggy black t-shirt and dark pants with a pair of red converse, but he was still somewhat embarrassed that he had to be pushed through the halls like that. Part of him wondered if he actually did have to be. As far as he knew, Bro and Terezi had done that intentionally to embarrass him. It seemed like something Bro would do, but Dave wasn't really sure. Not that it mattered, no one cared. Maybe he was over-thinking things. No. He definitely never did that.

Once they were outside, Terezi's hands replaced Bro's, and he sat there, looking ahead. Dave wouldn't admit it, but he already had a bit of a fondness for the officer standing behind him. Of course, there was probably a bit of an age difference there..."Hey Officer Pyrope, how old are you?" he asked. He felt like she was pretty young, but with how capable she'd been...she must have had quite a few years of practice in order to get to where she was.

"I'm twenty-one in a few months," she informed him, turning her head towards the car that started to approach. Dave wondered how upset Bro was about having to leave his truck behind. The injured person of the trio didn't care though. Having a different car meant way less bouncing and a quieter ride. Plus, Bro wouldn't know stupid tricks like how to press the gas and brake at the same time to make Dave's airbag go off on the passenger side. Then again, Bro was pretty nifty at mechanics (Dirk had to have gotten his hobby from _somewhere_ after all), and he had a feeling that any tricks the car had would be utilized shortly after their departure from the front of the hospital.

Terezi wheeled him over to the car and he rolled his eyes, standing up, and opening the back door. He got in, watching Terezi from the window as she rolled the wheelchair away before getting into the front seat. Bro sat in the driver's seat, keeping his sunglasses on even though it was dark. Dave's were tucked onto his shirt and he glance down at them, deciding to wait to put them on until the sun was actually up. Moonlight didn't do shit, but bright U.V rays caused a bit of irritation. More than a bit actually.

"Let's get this shit show on the road," Bro said after a second, throwing the car into drive, and speeding out of the parking lot in a manner that probably wasn't legal. Dave wasn't sure though, he hadn't even sat behind the wheel of a car before. Not that he couldn't have, he was eighteen after all, but driving wasn't something that he was really eager to do. Bro never pushed it and Dave left the matter alone, usually bumming rides if he needed them. He didn't usually go anywhere though, just chilled at home. He had more friends online anyways, people in Houston Texas were kind of assholes.

The younger Strider looked out the window, resting his head on the pane, and taking a deep breath. That made him wince, the stitches on his wound stretching uncomfortably at the abrupt increase of lung capacity. He made a note not to do that again, watching as the lights outside whizzed past. His eyes felt heavy and no one was talking, so Dave took the opportunity to close his eyes. It felt as though all he'd done for the past several days...weeks?...was sleep, but he was still tired. It didn't take long for him to be snoozing in the back, clutching his seat-belt.

 

~***~

"D'ya think we're gonna be able to find Dirk? Or is this just some sort of crazy goose chase?" Bro finally spoke up once Dave had been asleep for a while. He had no idea how the little turd managed to slip off into dream-land so easily, but there they were. He shook his head a bit, taking his eyes out of the rear-view mirror to keep an eye on the road. There weren't many people out, but he didn't want to risk getting into an accident.

"Don't worry, we know the general areas that Jake would have run to. You have to realize that this entire operation has been going on for years. We've had spies and agents in their midst for a very long time," Terezi explained, sitting upright in the seat next to Bro, "When someone spots him, we'll know where he is. Assuming that Dirk is with him, we'll get him out of there. If not, we'll search everywhere else to find him. But I can't imagine that English would steal him out of the hospital just to ditch him somewhere else. Worst case scenario, we'll wind up having a case of Stockholm Syndrome on our hands, but we'll get Dirk back."

Bro was silent for a second, continuing on down the road, "What does the little prick want with Dirk anyways? Asshole could have claimed his empire without kidnapping him, so what motive would he have?" he asked, glancing at her quickly. After all, staring at the same stretch of pavement for so long was a little obnoxious, even if it was necessary. God he hoped that he'd live to see the day when self-driving cars were implemented into society.

Terezi seemed to pause for a second before she shrugged, "A number of things. The leading theory is company, but it could be that he wants for pure muscle. A drug lord could always use a good body guard, but he can also have other companions if he wants them." she didn't have to keep going for Bro to get the idea of what 'companions' meant.

"He wants to fuck him. God. If he does shit to Dirk-" scratch that, "If I get my hands on him he'll be in deep shit. So deep it'd be like a T-Rex came over and took a nice cozy dump all over his head.," Bro's eyebrows pressed down, his lips moving to compress into a thin line, "Needless to say, it won't be pleasant for English, but there's no way in hell that I'd ever excuse something like that."

"Like I said, we don't know for sure," the officer spoke simply before she turned her head away. Why she bothered Bro didn't know, it wasn't as though she could see out the window. Not that it mattered, it was probably just a symbol of her being done with the conversation. Still, Bro knew better, and she knew that he knew better. If Jake was looking for a body guard, he wouldn't use someone that he'd abducted, that was for damn sure.

Which left one other option that left Bro's blood boiling, fingers clutching the steering wheel tightly until his knuckles turned white. Jake English was a dead man walking, but this time it was a completely different assassin who'd stuck a target on his back.

 


	5. Dinner

 

"You know, trying to pull some fucked up 'Beauty and the Beast' shit here really isn't helping your case," Dirk quipped, pushing his spoon around his bowl of chowder. He hadn't taken a bit at that point, going so far as to seat himself on the complete opposite side of the table from Jake. Naturally, that was pretty easy to do, because it was a big ass table. Dirk honestly wasn't quite sure just why Jake had to have such a gigantic piece of wood sitting in his dining room, but he figured that it was the only way to take up some place. The fucking place they were in was massive and was pretty pleasing to look at too. Whoever had designed it had a pretty good eye for decoration and architecture. He made a note to ask Jake if he knew who had built it, if he ever actually started speaking to Jake without bitter contempt in his voice of course.

Jake still seemed relatively unaffected by Dirk's taunts. Either that or he just couldn't hear Dirk very well from across the world. The ex-assassin finally just sank back in his chair, ignoring the gnawing in his stomach, as he pushed the bowl away. That seemed to catch English's attention, the darker-haired male frowning before he shook his head and went back to eating his soup thoughtfully. Blood boiling, Dirk was half-tempted to chuck a roll at Jake's head, but he wasn't sure if that would count as an "assassination attempt" or not, and he didn't feel quite ready to find out what would happen if he tried to pull a Queen of Hearts and chop off his head. He had to find a weapon first though and not one of the shitty guns that were strewn about the building.

It was frustrating to have so many out and about. Turn a corner? Gun. Get into bed? There's a gun waiting to jam up your ass the second you lay down. Get in the shower? The gun screams. The curtain gets drawn around it's exposed privates. Your cheeks are burning. Why did you think this was a good idea? Now you feel like an asshole for walking in on this poor under dressed gun. After a while, however, you start to wonder just why you felt bad for an inanimate object. Then you question your existence and whether or not anything is real because that gun was just fucking screaming and you were definitely not imagining that.

Dinner passed on, but that was essentially just Jake eating, and Dirk glaring from his end of the table. He was genuinely pissed off that the other was essentially ignoring him. Then again, Dirk was throwing the equivalent of a very mature temper tantrum, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He wanted to get Jake annoyed enough that Dirk could gain the upper hand. Unfortunately, the blond found that he was only increasing his own frustrations by keeping up his blatant hatred of Jake. But, what else could he do? He wasn't about to be friendly and romance was completely out of the question. Hell, he wouldn't have even considered calling their relationship "acquaintances". No, he was just bitter, and that anger was directed right at Jake. It was only fair though, Jake had started this whole mess.

After a few minutes of hole-burning looks, Dirk just flat out stood up, and left the kitchen to wander the hallways. He ignored the staff that bustled about, all of them staring at him with wide eyes as he strode past. God, he hated how much they all oggled him. It wasn't as though he were a god, he was just good with a sword while simultaneously being desperate for cash. Sure, he was the best as what he did, but Dirk started wondering if he were still that good. If he were, then he definitely wouldn't have been caught by English of all people. He could thank a massive head injury, courtesy of Lord English (may he rest in fucking pieces), for that one. Plus, a case of temporary amnesia. Honestly, he could have blamed everything on a lot of shit, but in the end he figured that it was partially his own fault. He hadn't fought back as much as he should have, he hadn't paid attention when Jake was wheeling him out of the hospital, and so on and so forth. This line of thinking brewed up a new sensation of self-hatred and Dirk despised everything and everyone because of it.

On the bright-side, his amnesia was gone, and he could remember everything (that he was aware of), which allowed him to get to work on some new creations with what little scrap metal Jake had given him. He couldn't wait to get his fingers on it, but he had to wait until a clear schedule could be laid out for him. Most of it would be spending time with Jake, but Dirk knew that he'd probably spend his allotted sleeping hours, and every bit of free periods with machinery. It would be a good time to hone his skills. Of course, he would get back to work to getting himself into better physical shape, but that wouldn't be to difficult. He wasn't in that bad of a position. In fact, he was fairly certain that he could beat that cocky, drug-lord in a hand-to-hand fight, even with his severe limitations. Hell, he could have taken Jake on with no legs or arms.

Regardless, Dirk made his way through the maze of hallways, ignoring the ghastly pictures on the walls of the entire English bloodline. Most of the portraits were sophisticated, showing the painted participant as calm and collected. It continued that way, all of them peering down their noses as haughtily as they could, until Jake reached one picture that seemed out of place. The woman in it was smiling. Genuinely, happily smiling. It struck Dirk as odd and he looked at the label on it, but it had been scratched out by someone, leaving only "English" partially saved. It seemed as though this woman wasn't held in the highest of respects by her family...Dirk vaguely wondered why, but decided to question it later, going into his allocated bedroom for the time being.

The room was massive, way larger than what he'd had at the apartment. The walls were all a dark green (it seemed to be the trademark color of the entire mansion and perhaps the English bloodline itself) with pure white trim decorating the bottom along with heavy, velvet drapes that hung along the sides of the large window that occupied a large section of one wall. Dirk walked over to that, looking out into the back of the house, where a rather obnoxiously huge jungle waited. He'd heard that some of the staff had disappeared when they went out there, probably snatched up, and eaten by some sort of beast that had never been categorized or found anywhere else on the planet. He wasn't sure if he wanted to test those theories, but part of him was curious to see what was actually out there. As far as he knew, the whole thing had been exaggerated to keep him confined to the "safe" zone of the mansion itself. But, he wasn't sure if it was safe to assume that, so he decided to cautiously check it out as soon as the time permitted.

Sighing, he turned away from the window, and sank down onto the luxurious bed. Dirk was pretty sure that it wasn't even king-size...more like god-size. Spread out with his hands and legs as far apart as they could be he was barely taking up half of the damn thing. Luckily, that meant that it took up quite a bit of room space, so he didn't feel quite so exposed all the time. He had a definite suspicion that all this space would get to him. He was just to used to the apartment's cluttered disaster or sleeping in shitty motel rooms to think twice about being confined to small areas. It was easy to figure that he'd have to get used to it since he was going to be stuck there for quite some time. The mere thought made him somewhat upset. He didn't want to be stuck on an island with a complete douchebag who had abducted him by manipulating his amnesiatic self.

There wasn't much he could do about though, so he just had to sit back, and wait to see what in the hell would happen. Part of him wondered if Jake would actually be pissed off because of the way he'd acted at dinner, but, in Dirk's mind, the asshole deserved it. Considering the fact that Jake had literally kidnapped him and was forcing him to stay on hell-murder island, he figured that it was pretty secure payback. Then again, there would likely be a lot of petty revenge things happening with how Jake had been acting. Pompous douchenozzle...

Dirk started when Jake flung the door open, anger practically eminating off of him, "Alright you cock-sucking ninny muffin! Just what makes you think that you can behave like that, hm? I've been nothing but polite to you this entire time and you have been an absolute thorn in my arse! Would you rather have a chain around your neck and be sleeping on the floor of my bedroom like a canine companion? That is certainly something that I could provide if you would prefer that rather than the lavish luxuries that I've bestowed upon you. I would like to remind you, Dirk, that anything you have is a privilege from this point forward. If you cannot appreciate it, then I'll find ways to make you appreciate being allowed a pat on the head."

"Wow, I'm absolutely swooning over here." he deadpanned, anger building up into a congestive ball inside of him, "You want someone to be you pal English? Then maybe you should quit acting like a snotty little shit head who thinks that the world should bow down to him. You're not your dad and I'm not your fucking slave. So take all the bullshit you just spewed and shove it up your ass with the stick that's been buried up in your tight anus for so long its becoming a god damn diamond."

Jake's eyes narrowed and he glared for a moment before he straightened his back, "Very well. You don't appreciate my presence? Then you can feel free to have no one's.". With that, Jake turned, walking out, and shutting the door. Dirk heard a very distinct 'click' of a lock and he ran to the door to check. Sure enough, the shaking of the door knob didn't do him any good. A defined scowl crept onto his face before he forced it away, moving away from the door. Solitary confinement wouldn't be that big of a deal. Dirk spent plenty of time on his complete and utter lonesome. The whole thing would be a walk in the park, he'd show Jake.

He sank down onto the bed, realizing that he was going to be bored out of his mind since there was absolutely nothing to do in the room. No television, no books, no computer, no metal, no tools-fuck. Yeah, it was going to be a very long couple of...however long Jake decided to leave him alone for. Dirk assumed that Jake wouldn't starve him and he could get water from the bathroom that was conjoined with the bedroom, so he wouldn't dehydrate. However, a week or two without food or human contact was going be very rough indeed. Assuming that Jake was a big enough dick to do something like that.

Which, based on what Dirk had seen, Jake most definitely was.

Abduction and shit like that tended to warrant someone's status as "big gigantic asshole" and Jake had a big neon sign flashing over his head that said just that. Then again, Dirk probably wasn't being much better, but he felt that his bitterness and contempt were in the right place. He just was not interested in being kept around as some sort of doll to be put on display. It was humiliating and Dirk wanted no part of it. But, with the way that the emerald eyed male had spoken, he had an ever present boulder in his gut that told him that he likely wouldn't have much of a say in the matter.

Dirk laid back on the bed, closing his eyes, and taking a couple of deep breaths. He just needed to relax and think his way through this. Initially, he considered climbing out the window, but that would be to obvious. Jake would probably have goons crawling all around his room to make sure he didn't try anything. Not that he'd get very far if he did, he was stuck on an island in the middle of whichever vast body of water Jake had dragged him onto. He was fairly certain it was the Pacific, but he could never be sure. Whatever it was, he hated it.

After a moment, he opened them again, staring up at the ceiling, and chewing on his lip, a bad habit that he had that showed whenever he was stressed or thinking to hard on something. For the time being, he was trying to contemplate logically. Obviously, the island had to have some way to get supplies. That meant that there was probably a boat or other vehicle that could go from the island back to shore and back again. If he could hijack one of those then he could get home. However, any boat would be large, and he wasn't sure if he could handle that. He had no idea how to fly a plane or a helicopter...

He sighed, having to scratch off that idea. Unless he could hold the captain or pilot by sword point and make them drive him off into the sunset. Otherwise, the plan would be futile, and he didn't want to attempt unless he was very certain that it would work out. If he failed, then he probably wouldn't get another chance, and, even if he did get away, he'd have to be on the run from English and his goons for god knows how long. He tried not to dwell on the thought for too long, reprimanding himself for not focusing on what was really important: getting away. Once he got out, he could worry about everything else.

Now all he had to do was escape.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evil Jake is so much fun to write god damn. And I know the story seems hella dark right now, but I promise there won't be anything forced in this story (at least sex wise). So...yeah! Thanks for reading, you guys are lovely <3


	6. Distressing Situations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW for death in this chapter. Not super graphic, but there is mention of blood.

**== > Be Dave Strider.**

You are now Dave Strider. Dave happened to be sitting in the backseat of the car, head resting against the cool glass of the window as a soft sigh escaped from his lips. He, Bro, and Terezi had been A.W.O.L searching for Dirk for nearly a month and they hadn't seen hide nor hair of his kidnapped brother. It was distressing, stressing, and everything inbetween, but, mostly, it was bullshit. He was so sick of this, seeing Bro so upset, and frustrated hurt more than anything. Terezi couldn't see it (ha), but Striders had a certain sense of cool about them, and Dave could definitely tell that Bro was losing grip on his uncaring facade.

The way that he clutched the steering wheel until his knuckles went white, how he punched the gas or hit the breaks a little to hard whenever they stopped or went, they way little wrinkles were starting to form from how tightly his eyebrows were pushed together, and so on. The signs were disturbing and Dave didn't want to see those things on any of his siblings anymore. Sure, he was the youngest, but he still cared about his brothers, and he wanted to protect them...even if he was usually the one getting protected. But it was hard, with Dirk blatantly missing (and not just fucking around on some sort of job), and having absolutely no idea as to where he was...well, it was definitely taking its toll on everyone in the car.

Terezi had the easiest time, obviously, but even she was starting to feel the tension that was sneaking into the vehicle as they drove past street sign after street sign. The entire company had scoured cities for days, searching high and low for any sign of Dirk, Jake, or anyone involved in that nasty business that English ran...but there was nothing to be found. There were no henchmen, no signs of illegal drug activity having to do with the English family, and no Dirk. It was frustrating, anger was boiling up inside the youngest of the brothers, but he kept it bottled up. He needed to focus on helping as much as he could with a still-healing bullet wound. Sure, he wasn't dying, but he'd still suffered from a gun-shot. He couldn't exactly go and kick down people's doors shouting "die motherfuckers" as he fired a machine gun into their midst. It wouldn't exactly help him.

After a couple of hours of silence, Bro pulled off into a random motel in Anaheim, California. Disneyland was somewhere nearby, but, somehow, the motherfucker had picked the cheapest hotel in the city. It was a bit of a dump, but it was affordable, and it would keep the lot of them off of the road, and hidden. Besides, Dave had grown up sleeping on a mattress that he'd gotten when he was five. Springs jabbing into his back underneath a thin layer of fabric was way better than what he was normally used too. Comparatively, the hotel beds were like sleeping on a cloud...aside from the occasional thunder of Bro's snores. Still, everyone managed to sleep for a few hours.

Dave was the last to wake, grumbling when Bro shoved at his shoulder, and snapping at him to 'get his ass out of bed' before he 'chopped it off, had it stuffed, framed, and mounted, and shoved it into the back of the car instead'. What a douche. Reluctantly, the youngest blond sat up before he fell back, sucking in a breath of pain. Fuck. His wound was supposed to be healing not-...not fucking bleeding everywhere oh god.

He wasn't the only one to notice and before he could protest, Bro has ripped his shirt up, looking at the bled through bandages with a curse. Dave stayed silent as his brother mumbled to himself, grabbing wads of toilet paper and a wet rag, and taking off the bandages. He dabbed up some of the blood, pressing the rag to the bullet wound, and passing some instructions with Terezi. The only thing he bothered to say to Dave was to stay put before he was gone, car keys jingling distinctively in his hands.

That left the blind cop and the stubborn younger brother in the room while Dave continued to bleed through the rag. He felt like utter shit, his side hurt like hell, and he had an inkling of a feeling that Bro was going to chew him out. It would likely be a reprimanding, telling him that he should have stayed behind in the hospital rather than exerting himself on such a long journey. Of course, Dave knew that wound hadn't been healing right ever since they left. Pain would flare through it on occasion and Dave had gotten a little to good at stealing bandages from first-aid kits whenever they were at the store...was that bad to do when the person chaperoning you was a member of F.B.I? Dave wasn't sure, but he hadn't really cared.

Unfortunately, he had to care at that point. He hadn't looked much when Bro had taken off the bandages, but he knew that it probably wasn't good. He hoped that he wouldn't be endangering everyone by sticking around with a wound like that. Part of him realized it was probably infected. The other part of him told that part to shut the fuck up, sit down, and think a little more positively you pessimistic, glass half-empty piece of-

Before one half of Dave could rip the other half apart, Bro returned. Dave was partially relieved, the awkward silence with Terezi had been a little disconcerting. However, the anger that accompanied Bro was enough to make Dave clamp his mouth shut for once. The smaller of the two Striders knew that the eminating fury was caused by him. If he'd just stayed behind, actually cleaned the wound instead of assuming that bandages were going to do shit-

"They never fuckin' stitched you up," Bro said, dunking a needle in some rubbing alcohol before lifting the rag off of Dave's side, "Roll on your side kid, bite on this," another rag was pressed to his lip and he bit down on it without question. He'd been through one to many home-made stitching processes to not accept it. Clenching his eyes shut, Dave managed to only flinch a small bit when the alcohol was poured over the wound. It stung like a bitch, but it was nothing compared the completely alien feeling of the needle pulling his skin together. In reality, it didn't hurt that much, but Dave fucking _hated_ needles. He loathed the way they tugged at his skin, he'd never liked it, even as a kid. The rag was more of a customary thing so he could chew on something other than his tongue to disperse his anxiety and fear of the metal item that was slowly pulling his skin back together.

Finally, it was done, and Dave spat out the rag, allowing himself to let go of the tension in his muscles that he hadn't even realized was there. While he did that, Bro began to layer bandage after bandage over it, but not before pouring a shit-ton of more alcohol onto his side. He couldn't help the hiss of pain that came from between his teeth, but after that, it wasn't so bad. He was just glad that it was over with and felt relieved as Bro threw the needle into the trash.

"Should've realized that ya weren't okay. Why didn't ya say somethin'? It's been weeks kid," Bro's voice sent a bit of guilt through Dave, who hung his head like a scolded child. Technically speaking, he sort of _was_ being a scolded child at that point in time. But how could he explain it to Bro? Hell, Dave hadn't even realized that stitches were necessary. He just thought the wound was bleeding a little, no big deal. It hadn't struck him as significant enough to bother anyone with, not when Dirk had been kidnapped by some fucking drug-lord psychopath, "Dave. Silence ain't an answer."

The words snapped him out of his stupor and he took a breath, letting it out slowly, "I thought I was managing it just fine Bro. It didn't hurt that much, just a little blood. Ain't like I haven't seen anything like it before. 'Sides, I ain't dead. I'll be fine. Just didn't think that it was that big of a deal is all when we've got Dirk missing in action-"

"Dave," he cut the other off, shaking his head, "Hell kid, just 'cause Dirk is gone doesn't mean that ya get to wallow in self-pity. If ya hurt then ya speak up, ya understand? I ain't losin' another li'l bro to some dumb-ass disease. Ya aren't any less important because of Dirk."

Dave...wasn't sure how to feel about that. Bro was rarely affectionate and never really seemed to give a shit if Dave was hurt or not. Sure, he'd throw him an ice-pack after a particularly harsh strife, or stitch him up if one of the sword blades cut a little to close to home, but he wasn't one to kiss at boo-boos or bring specific attention to a random black-eye. The statement made him feel strange, Bro had never really acknowledged him as important in any way, but...it felt nice to be recognized and validated by someone that he'd looked up to for quite some time.

Bro seemed to realize what he'd said, but he didn't retract it, just reached over, and ruffled Dave's hair before he straightened up. He kept the bandages and rubbing alcohol, tossing everything into the trash, and scribbling a note apologizing for the mess of blood. He left an extra tip for that on the T.V stand with the piece of paper. Once that was taken care of, he got to his feet, carefully helping Dave up so that he didn't rip the stitching in his side, and looking at Terezi who was already on her feet, leaning casually on her cane, "Not that that brotherly moment wasn't touching, but I have a missing person's case to solve, and I'd like to find this missing person as soon as possible. In order to do that, we need to move to our next location. I found one, but it's not going to be easy to get there."

"Where is it?" Dave and Bro exchanged glances, both having spoken at the same time, which caused Terezi to crack a slight grin that showed off teeth that almost seemed...pointed? Weird. Good thing this story wasn't heading down the supernatural route.

She took a few steps forward, swinging her cane around her as she swept the room. Inhaling deeply, she paused for another pain-staking moment, and then spoke, "An island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The culprit of this crime is going to be heavily guarded and he'll have people watching the island. It won't be easy to get there. We'll have to disguise ourselves or send over other agents if any of us feel incapable of laying under cover for a little while."

That was a bit of a blow. On one hand, the two brothers wanted to do anything to help their brother, both younger and older, but they didn't want to have to hide from him. And who knew how long it would take to pass screenings, tests, and other things to get onto English Island in the first place? It was obvious that both siblings were considering the same thing, casting a glance in each other's direction. Dave was waiting for Bro to respond, he'd do whatever the older asked by that point...unless it meant going home without him.

There was another stretch of silence before Bro took a breath, "I hate to say it, but I don't think we're the ones to go on that island. If we have to hide from Dirk...no. It'd be better if we waited and didn't put all of us into more trouble," the tone of his voice was finalizing and Dave felt somewhat...disappointed. Terezi was nodding, but Dave frowned. How could they just give up? After they'd spent weeks driving around the country trying to find Dirk? Was that whole venture a complete and utter waste? And then they were going to sit with a thumb up their ass waiting for some undercover F.B.I agents to take care of it for them? It just didn't strike Dave as right. Then again, he hadn't actually expected Bro to decline.

"If that's what you think it best then I'll contact the bureau and see who we can get," Terezi seemed to look between the two of them, turning her head, and fixing her unseeing eyes on them from behind her tinted glasses, "Until then, I'll let the two of you take the car. Consider it a parting gift from the F.B.I in condolence for your brother, I'll be getting a different ride out of here once I place a few phone calls," she plopped back down in her earlier seat, pulling out a cell-phone, and obviously intending to end the discussion there, "So farewell."

The two brothers looked at each other again, shrugged, and left the room. Bro's shoulders sagged slightly once they were out, but Dave didn't comment in order to spare making things worse. They got into the car, Dave in the front seat that time, and Bro started it up, backing away. The youngest brother looked out the window as he started to drive, getting on the freeway, and starting to head back home. It was going to be a long while before they reached it, but Dave had a feeling that it was going to be spent in silence.

He wasn't wrong...mostly.

They reached home, parking the car in the empty space for their apartment, and got out. Bro made his way to the stairs, Dave lingering behind for a moment before making his way to follow his brother. Abruptly, both of them stiffened, something in the air not feeling right. Unfortunately, neither of them had a weapon, but both were just as capable in using their fists as they were a swore. Instinctively, they moved closer, going back to back in a defensive position with their fists up and ready to attack anyone that dared to show their face.

A flicker of movement caught Dave's eye and he went for it, not heading Bro's warning. He didn't get far before something heavy hit the back of his head. The world spun and he fell to his hands and knees, shades clattering to the ground, but he wasn't entirely out of it. He heard scuffling, knowing that Bro had gotten involved in the fray too. Dave blinked, shaking away the dizziness in his head, and forcing himself back to his feet, looking around blearily.

Things started to come back into focus and he lurched forward as someone came at him. It wasn't graceful by any means, nearly ending with him back on the asphalt of the parking garage, but he avoided getting whacked on the back of the head. Only a few seconds later, he heard a heavy thud, and turned to see Bro on the ground, bleeding. He shouted, staring to run forward, but someone caught the back of his shirt, and yanked him backward. He struggled, doing everything he could to get whoever it was to let him go, but it was no use. Whoever it was was taller, stronger, and a hell of a lot bigger than he was, "Let go of me you gigantic fucking oaf!" he snapped, "Motherfucking elephant god damn piece o'-" he was cut off as something was shoved between his lips and held there, effectively muffling his words, and mostly shutting up.

"Good gracious above, Dirk wasn't kidding when he said that the two of you would put up an effective fight," a chill instantly ran down Dave's spine and he glared in the direction of the voice that spoke. He hadn't ever met this piece of shit, but it didn't take a genius to figure out the one person that would be interested in attacking him and Bro after hours of driving back home. It had to be someone who would have a particular interest in his family...someone who already had his hands on one and came back to gather up the rest of the collection for some fucked up reason.

Jake English.

He stepped closer towards Dave as Bro's hands were bound behind his back and the younger shouted against the piece of fabric in his mouth, absolutely _livid_ at the sight. That only seemed to amuse his captors and he could see the faint grin on Jake's face as he came closer to examine Dave, "I suppose I can see the familial resemblance between all of you. Oh, how forgetful of me, I simply forgot to introduce myself. Jake English," he gave a mock bow, grinning at the captive blond, and resting his hands casually on his hips, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Unfortunately, this meeting has got to be rather brief," he pulled out a pistol, pressing it to Dave's forehead.

His gut dropped past his toes and straight into hell as the cool metal met his skin. For a moment, he went still, the realization that he may very well just wind up dying at that very point in time hitting him like a...a speeding bullet to the occipital lobe. Fear struck him like it had never done before. Never when he'd strifed with Bro or Dirk or when the apartment had been under attack had he been so frightened. The worst thing was that no one could help him. Dirk was gone and Bro was unconscious on the ground.

Or rather, he had been. Dave clenched his eyes shut, shaking as he waited for the bullet to come, but it didn't. Someone shouted and the gun moved from its target, "Oh for hell's sake-" Dave opened his eyes again, spitting out the rag in his mouth, and giving it his all to get away from the brute holding him there, "I suppose we'll do this in the opposite direction then."

Bro was up again, managing to incapacitate three people with just his feet while trying to unbind his hands. But he wasn't paying attention to Jake. Jake, who was raising the pistol up again. Jake, who was aiming for his brother's head. Jake, who had his finger on the trigger, "Bro!" Dave shouted, but it was too late, and the sound of the bullet leaving its carrier echoed through the garage. It flew threw the air, striking Bro directly in the back of the head, "No!" he shoved harder than he had before, flying from his captor's grip, and shoving Jake to the side as he knelt down next to Bro. He'd been to slow. To slow to save him, to warn him, to help him...

His hands hovered over the limp body and he trembled, not daring to touch, but not wanting to refrain from doing so either. Finally, he tentatively touched his brother's arm, hands shaking so bad that contact only last for a brief second. He didn't realize that he was screaming until a hand clamped down over his mouth to silence it. Dave found himself dragged away from the body, an arm wrapping around his throat to cut off his air supply. He struggled furiously, but after a moment the world spun, and the last thing he saw was the spreading pile of blood around his brother's corpse.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may Bro somewhat fanon, but I tried to mix that with canon while writing this. Please realize that Bro still initiated physical abuse with strifes and was emotionally distant from Dave and Dirk when they were growing up. Him somewhat making it up now isn't apologizing for the shitty things he did. I still cried writing this though. Fuck.


	7. Exploration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk and Jake fight again (fighting little shits) and Dirk runs into someone new. That's basically it.

 

 

The door opened and Jake entered the room. Dirk sat up off of the bed, tense, and ready for a fight if one were to occur. However, he was slightly confused as to what had brought the drug lord into his room. It had only been two days (thank god for windows), which hadn't necessarily been fun, but he'd expected his "alone time" to last a bit longer than it had. Plus, it had been somewhat nice to be away from Jake. Just the sight of the other had his fists clenched and muscles constricting. Needless to say, if he ever did get away, he'd be pretty fucked up after that whole experience.

"Enjoyed yourself?" Jake asked, voice annoyingly chipper as he let the door shut behind him. He didn't move from that position, hands clasped behind his back as he looked expectantly at Dirk for an answer. Though it was tempting to reply with tartful sarcasm, Dirk decided against it, and just waited for Jake to get to the point. His solitary confinement wouldn't be over so quickly without some sort of reasoning. The question was; what reason? It didn't really make a whole lot of sense to the blond, but he wasn't about to speak up about any of the things running through his head. Especially since Jake had started to blabber again.

"Not up for chatter? Ah that's alright, I've got quite the vocabularical experience myself so I can fill the gap for the both of us." god it wasn't fair that his accent was somewhat adorable, what a dweeb, "Any-who, I couldn't just leave you here for so long on your lonesome, and I did some thinking about the situation. Naturally, I drew the conclusion that your reaction to all of this is only a biologically ingrained response to stressful stimulus and all that malarkey and mumbo-jumbo. Point being, I decided that punishing you in this manner would be counter productive. In the end, I really do just desire a companion. Surely you can understand that given your line of work."

Dirk stayed stonily silent for a moment, staring at Jake before he flicked his eyes away to gaze at the wall, "That's the most half assed apology I've ever heard. Your conclusion doesn't change the fact that you kidnapped me and dragged me into the middle of nowhere just so we could become 'friends'. I'm not exactly eager to leap into your arms and blast out a word storm so we can kindle some sort of positive relationship just because you suddenly realized why I'm not fond of your presence. Speaking of, couldn't you just leave me alone for a few more days? Being without your company was a lot more calming than actually talking to you."

Jake's face was red after the first sentence and it was pretty easy to guess that it hadn't turned that color because he was embarrassed. Despite that, he took a deep breath, and let it out slowly before eyeing Dirk with only minor anger, "I can't take you back now, you're stuck here along with me. It's not as though I chose this location to isolate you, I would have gone somewhere far different, but I've got to keep a low cover, and this is the best place to do that. Besides, life here wouldn't be all that awful if you'd accept my hand of kindness for once. I've got plenty of money and if things work out, which they will, then we can travel around a bit instead of being stuck here." any fury vanished, replaced by an almost child-like hope as he mentioned travel, but it fell as he started talking again, "But I can't let you leave the island if you're going to disappear the second we touch ground in a plane or 'coptor."

The promise of freedom was tempting, but Dirk knew better than to just agree like that, "I'll have to pass. I've seen enough of the world, I'm not eager to go explore more of it," keeping up a casual air, he laid back on the bed, and tucked his hands into the back of his hair, "You'll have to find yourself a different consort to occupy the seat next to you on the plane out of here."

"Very well," there was obvious disappointment in Jake's voice, which surprised Dirk. He didn't expect the other to upset at his denial of the offer, he'd expected anger, or for him to silently leave the room and lock him in again. Instead, he stood there, looking at Dirk as though hoping he'd change his mind. That didn't happen and he looked away from Dirk, crossing his arms over his chest, "I'll leave your door unlocked this time around, but you still can't leave the manor. If you need to contact me just snag one of the staff and they'll let me know," he stepped back to the door, resting his hand on the knob, and hesitating, "Dinner will be in an hour. If you'd like to wait for me to finish dining then you'll find a plate waiting for you half an hour later," with that, Jake exited the room, leaving the door open, and Dirk alone once more.

The bed sunk under his elbows as he propped himself up, looking out into the hallway, and listening to the heavy silence that followed Jake out. The sudden change of tactics left him feeling unsettled and he stood up, deciding to get a look around the proximity of the mansion so he could map it out and think while he paced. With that new task in mind, he got to his feet, going to the doorway, and peeking out into the hallways.

It was deserted, which was a relief, and he walked into it, deciding to go right since he was fairly certain Jake had gone left. Fingers carded through his hair as he made his way through the hall, checking a couple of doors only to find them locked. He vaguely wondered if there were others like him, trapped in the rooms, but there was no sound behind the doors. Shrugging it off, he continued on his way, trying every door that he came across to see what he could find.

Library. _What is his game? Why is he so moodily flippant?_ Next door; office. _He's just trying to manipulate me into staying here with him._ No doors for a little while. _There's no way in hell that I'm going to just sit around here playing buddy with that prick._

He came to another door, opening it, and staring. It was almost as though that room had been put there specifically for him. Piles of scrap metal sat around the room, a lone computer on a desk covered with blueprints sat in the corner, and a large tool box took up the majority of the back wall. Dirk gaped, feet dragging him into the room without him realizing it, and soon he was running his fingers of the metal, testing the quality, and digging around until he found some wiring.

After a second, he paused, remembering what it was that he'd demanded from Jake when they first arrived on the island. Had he actually had all that brought in and put into the room? Dirk retracted his hand from the temptation of the metal, deciding that he wouldn't accept any "gifts" from the person holding him hostage on some weird-ass island. He backed out of the room, shutting the door again, and reluctantly walking away. He really would have liked to put his hands on a hammer so that he could smack the metal and pretend it was Jake.

He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets, and looking at the dead end that he was faced with. Shrugging, he turned back, going through the hall again, but continuing past the door that was his bedroom to head to what would have been the left. He remembered coming up that way from the kitchen and he made note to avoid that until he was certain an hour had passed. He just wished that he had some way to keep track of time.

Dirk became somewhat absorbed in his thoughts, not paying attention as he wound up running face first into a walking pile of laundry. Wait. No, that wasn't a walking pile of laundry, it was a maid that he'd just knocked to the floor. She cursed loudly, blonde curls bouncing as she started to fold the laundry back up, "For hell's sake, watch where you're goin'-" she hiccuped and Dirk realized that her cheeks were flushed and she seemed somewhat woozy as she sloppily refolded the clothes.

He knelt down to help her, starting to pick up some of the items, and putting them back into the basket, "Sorry, I didn't mean to run into you. I got lost in thought," he paused for a brief second, "Are you okay?" he asked

"Me?" she raised her eyes to him and any color in her cheeks immediately drained as she seemed to recognize him, "Oh jeez. Don't worry about it, I shouldn't 'ave been fumblin' around like a clutz," she laughed, but there was a nervous edge to it as she quickly shoved more clothes into the basket. After that, she got back to her feet, clearing her throat, "Er...thanks!"

"Hey wait," he hadn't seen anyone but Jake around, and he quickly got back up to block her path, "what's your name?" he blurted out, feeling slightly stupid for doing so, but dammit he wanted to talk to someone that wasn't a certain English bag of dicks. It had been too long since he'd gotten to talk about something other than his unwanted abduction, it would be nice to have someone else to talk to.

She seemed hesitant, the slight pink of her irises flicking around, "M'name's Roxy. Look it's good to meet y-," she hiccuped, "...you," she cleared her throat again, swallowing, and swaying slightly on her feet, "But, listen Dirky, I gotta run, and get this shit into Mr. English's room really speedy quick, 'kay?" she smiled, pushing past him, and scurrying off down the hallway before he could object.

"I-" he sighed, his hands making their way back into his pant pockets. It looked like he wasn't about to make super new friends anytime soon, but he had an inkling of a feeling that she was in a hurry to go because she was fairly tipsy. Maybe she'd broken into the liquor cabinet or something. He shrugged it off, like he did with most things, but he wasn't interested in exploring anymore. So, he returned to his room, and sank back down onto the bed. His back hit the mattress and he let his mind wander, unaware that every step he'd taken had been closely monitored, and that a new plan of action was being put into place.

==> A couple thousand miles away...

_His hands hovered over the limp body and he trembled, not daring to touch, but not wanting to refrain from doing so either. Finally, he tentatively touched his brother's arm, hands shaking so bad that contact only last for a brief second. He didn't realize that he was screaming until a hand clamped down over his mouth to silence it. Dave found himself dragged away from the body, an arm wrapping around his throat to cut off his air supply. He struggled furiously, but after a moment the world spun, and the last thing he saw was the spreading pile of blood around his brother's corpse._

Jake watched the boy go limp, sighing as he glanced around the relatively empty parking lot, "Come on now, pick him up, and let's get out of here. We've been waiting for too long already anyways." One of his goons threw the unconscious body over his shoulder and Jake started to walk out, leaving Bro's body there. Dirk was going to comply, one way or another, and Jake already knew how protective he was of his family. All he had to do was make a couple of subtle threats and Dirk would have to be eating out of the palm of his hand.

"I did give you a chance," he murmured to himself, letting his men load Dave into the trunk, and getting into the passenger seat. A few seconds later, the car was driving away, leaving the gruesome scene behind for some poor old woman to discover with a bloody scream in the morning.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this fic updates once every millenia. The anti-christ will rise and fall before this is done (just kidding...maybe). Anyways, thanks for all the comments and kudos guys, I appreciate them all <3


	8. The Abduction of Another Strider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Dave.

_Thud_.

Dave groaned as something jerked him unkindly, stirring lightly, and then going still for a few moments.

_Thud._

He peeled his eyes open slightly, mumbling something, and letting his eyelids fall once more. He was to tired to really give a shit about Bro banging on his door.

_Thud._

This one jerked him and he snapped into alertness, abruptly aware of how dark his surroundings were. His room did serve as a half-assed darkroom, but he didn't remember drawing the black-out curtains at any point. What sort of shit was Bro trying to pull? Fucking bastard probably wanted to scare the ever-loving shit out of his little brother as-per-usual. Dave couldn't wait for the day that he could-

_Thud._

Dave's head hit the roof and something definitely wasn't right. He squinted, the smallest bit of light coming in through a couple of small holes below him. That definitely wasn't his bedroom. He soon realized that his hands were stiff, numb, and tied firmly behind his back. A piece of duct tape was shoved over his lips and his legs were done up as neatly as his arms. What in the hell? Bro had been fucked up, but he definitely wasn't _that_ fucked up. Where was he anyways?

Abruptly, it all came flooding back. The blood, the echo of the gunshot through the cavernous parking garage, the sound of Bro's body hitting the floor, and then...darkness. He'd been choked into unconsciousness and he hadn't been able to do anything to save his brother's life. Just like that, his family, both living ones, had been ripped from him in a matter of weeks, and he had no idea what was going to be happening to himself. He didn't know why Jake had decided to kidnap him, especially since it seemed like he had intended to kill Dave in the first place. It didn't make sense. Why take one of them alive? What was the point in Bro's death?

The pounding questions were just giving him a headache, so he pushed them away, and instead started picking at the knot that held his wrists together. Countless re-enactment scenarios raced through his head and he rubbed his fingers over the knot, trying to remember the loose spot for it. It didn't occur to him that he wouldn't be able to get very far considering the fact that he was locked in the back of a moving vehicle. All that really mattered was getting out of the damn bindings. Then he could worry more about how he was going to escape without killing himself or, at very least, injuring himself, and winding up back in the same position that he was already in.

A couple of picks with his fingers had it loosening, but he was to slow, and the car came to a slow stop. The engine cut off and Dave sat in silence, breathing heavily, and looking expectantly upwards. Without warning, the trunk flung open, and he flinched at the harsh light that fell over him. Right, no shades. Why had those been taken? It seemed like a tedious thing to snatch from your prisoner, but he supposed that they'd taken everything but the clothes on his back off of him. At least they had the decency to let him remain decent.

Two men looked down at him, in his curled up, and, frankly, uncomfortable looking state of being. He recognized one as Jake and he had to assume that the other was the brute that had originally snagged him in the parking garage. Dave glared at both of them, two which Jake just smirked, and the brute scowled, "You Striders really are such sore losers." the former spoke, nodding to his partner who picked Dave up out of the car as though he were a small kitten, and flung him over his shoulder (much to Dave's displeasure).

He shouted against the gag, struggling in his captor's hold, but it was obviously not going to work. If anything, the two seemed to find it amusing as Jake laughed, and Dave was fairly certain that the larger of the three had let out a small chuckle. In return, Dave received a condescending pat on the cheek, and then they were walking towards something that Dave couldn't see.

He could tell that they were on a beach, but where that beach was he wasn't sure. He didn't know how long he'd been out or how long he'd been in the car. Though, based on the various kinks in his neck and back, he assumed that it had been a pretty long damn time. God being choked out was a gigantic pain in the ass. He probably could have gotten away if he'd just been hit over the head or something (more than likely, he wouldn't have made it very far if he got away at all). Regardless of that trivial fact, he didn't have much time to examine his surroundings as they ascended up a ramp, and landed in the interior of a very fancy jet.

Jake strolled in first and Dave was dragged past while the other plopped down onto a plump cushion. The blond obviously wasn't getting first class, or even economy-class treatment, and was instead taken to a bland back room with nothing more than a shitty looking bed and a very ominous I.V stand. He started to kick again, but it didn't do him any good. The next thing he knew, he was on his back on the bed, and his hands were held firmly in one unnaturally large hand (fuck being incredibly skinny). With ease, the brute pulled them apart, pinning one down, and momentarily letting the other go to strap his right arm down to the mattress with conveniently built in straps (they seemed slightly worn...how many people did Jake fuck up?).

Naturally, he flailed his left hand, managing to land a decent punch on the guy's shoulder, but, inevitably, the arm was strapped down. His legs were the next challenge, once untied, he twisted his hips, kicking the man in the face, and feeling a sense of satisfaction from that. Any smugness that he'd earned came back to haunt him immediately as a fist hit his cheek hard enough to make him see stars. It also startled him enough to allow the man to strap down his legs. A larger belt-like contraption went around his waist, a similar one passing over his shoulders to essentially hold him completely down. Testing the waters, Dave found that he definitely wasn't going anywhere, but, just to be safe, the man shoved Dave's sleeve up, and unceremoniously shoved the I.V needle into the most prominent vein that was visible.

Dave's scream was muffled by the tape over his mouth, but the drug in the bag took effect fairly quickly. He kept up a decent fight, but it died down until he was staring determinedly at the ceiling, taking quick breaths, and trying to stay awake. His eyelids betrayed him, sinking downwards, and refusing to shoot back up again as the drug coiled itself around his consciousness. For a moment, everything started to go blurry, and he felt at peace.

Then everything was black once more.

 

"...going to do with him?" a deep voice spoke, breaking through his unconscious, and drugged out state. He didn't move, but he was starting to become slightly more aware of his surroundings; the engine rumbling, the sound of shoes tapping on the floor as someone came closer to him, etc.

"Nothing at the moment. It's more a backup plan than anything, but I'm not sure that it will be necessarily. But, whether or not this was fruitless doesn't particularly matter to me. I'd prefer to have my guns on hand than to not have them at all should anything ugly come knocking," another voice replied just above him.

There was a brief silence, but it was broken once more, "Think he's waking up?" fuck, did he twitch? No, god, he didn't want to be knocked out again. Going dark was obnoxious as hell. Besides, he was tied up, why'd they have to put him under?

"I'll check," the person standing over him said, flicking his arm. Reflexively, he tensed, and he heard a slight tsk. Dave was still to doped up to do much else other than let it happen as the needle slid into his arm, "Back to sleep with you. You'll want the rest...."

He didn't catch much of the sentence, already drifting off once more, and promptly losing any memory of the conversation that he'd caught small insight too.

 

Dave started, shooting upright, and then falling back down as the cuffs on his wrists caught and knocked him back. He wiggled, sitting up a little more carefully, and found his hands once more secured behind his back. Only this time they had him stuck to the headboard of a twin sized bed decorated with a plush comforter and a relatively pissed off Strider. Where the fuck was he? He didn't remember anything about the plane aside from getting on it, but he had a feeling that that was likely for the better.

Unfortunately, he was awake. And being awake meant that he could remember everything that had happened before he'd woken up in the trunk. A nasty feeling twisted itself in his gut, making him feel as though he couldn't breath as it enveloped him, and shot through his core like an hour. Bro was dead, Dirk was, at best, abducted, and Dave had been kidnapped too. He didn't understand why it had happened to them. Part of him wanted to blame Dirk, but the other part knew that Dirk was really just doing his job. Sighing, he leaned back against the headboard, tipping his head back, and closing his eyes. Surely, something had to happen.

A few minutes later, the doorknob twisted, and the door swung in, allowing none other than Jake English himself into the room. A mixture of emotions welled up in Dave, but he primarily focused on one: hatred. Obviously, he'd made that anger obvious, and Jake just laughed, walking closer, and grabbing Dave's chin tightly between his fingers, "Oh get over yourself Dave. If anything, you should be glad I killed the other one. Had I not you'd be the one getting discovered by your neighbors. Try to see the bright side of all of this, there is some illumination to your situation after all."

That...really just pissed him off more. Dave jerked his head, pulling out of his grip, and leaning back away from him to try to keep it from happening again. He sent an extremely nasty look at Jake, wishing that his hands weren't tied up. Sure, his legs were free, but he assumed that if he lashed out with those they'd be stuck too, and he really didn't want to get into some messed up bondage shit, "Sorry, allow me to bow down before you for only killing _one_ person that I actually give a fuck about. I can't believe I didn't realize the truth. It's obvious now: you're a fucking saint, holier than Saint Peter himself!"

"I've had enough sarcasm from one of you to sate me for the remainder of my days," Jake huffed, folding his arms behind his back, and tsking, "Such a shame that you've all got to be so spiteful. Honestly, if Dirk would just cooperate this would never have happened. I could have given less of a damn about the lot of you trying to track me down with that F.B.I agent of your's. At least I didn't abduct Dirk in the attempt to coerce him into killing more people."

"Then what do you want with Dirk?" he narrowed his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows together. What was Jake's endgame? What had moved him enough to cause him to kill Bro and take Dirk and Dave?

Jake walked to the bottom of the bed, resting his hands on one of the posts, and seemed to get lost in thought as he stared at the dark wood that sat beneath his palm, "All I asked for was company. Your brother refused to compromise so now I've got to start looking for alternative methods to get him to realize that the situation I've placed him in isn't all that awful."

Dave looked at him like he was insane, because, really, he was, "You went through all of this to try to get Dirk to be your friend? Fucking hell, maybe start with not abducting him from the hospital you mental sack of shit! Or, you know, don't kill the person who raised him!" unintentionally, Dave had hit a chord within himself, but he blinked the tears away. Maybe there was a chance that Bro wasn't dead. Maybe Bro was on his way to save Dave right at that moment. Maybe...

"Admittedly, that may have been a brash move on my half, but Dirk would have still been under orders to kill me, and I simply couldn't allow the government to come breathing down his neck about it. So, I snatched him up, and here we are. I suppose I also needed to get out of the public spotlight. Too many folks would have gotten the idea that I was vulnerable and come to attack. But, enough of that. I haven't got to explain myself anymore than that and you'll have to simply accept it," he said, pulling away from the post, and stepping closer to Dave again.

The youngest Strider tensed up, watching Jake draw closer before his jaw was harshly gripped, and his face was jerked so that he was looking up at his captor, "Fuck off English," he tried to jerk away again, but the grip was persistent that time around.

"No. I'm explaining a few things to you. If you'd like to be untied in the near future then I would suggest that you shut your yammering trap and listen," Dave felt his cheeks compress until he flinched, the skin that Jake's fingers were digging into flaring up with a stinging pain, "Good. Now, you are confined to this room, and if you are caught attempting to escape then you will be punished and locked up once more. You will be fed twice a day, but you will not converse with whoever it is that is feeding you, and they will not converse with you. You maybe given electronics or other things to occupy your time in the near future, but for the time being you are left to your own devices to entertain yourself," he let go of Dave, stepping back, "Any crude behavior will be dealt with. Simply be aware that if you break something, it will not be replaced, and you will regret doing so. The bathroom is over there," he nodded to a door directly to Dave's right, "Dinner will be served in approximately two hours," he finished, walking away from the bed with an air of finality, and shutting the door behind him.

Dave stared. He was stuck to a god damn bed for two hours? What the hell? He groaned, trying to get even semi-comfortable on the bed, but any position that gave him relief soon became cramped, and just as bad as the first. It was a miserable few hours, trying to wiggle his way out of the ropes, or to just get into a better position than the one that he was in.

Finally, the doorknob twisted, and a boy who couldn't have been much older than him entered, carrying a tray of soup with a roll laid next to it. He shut the door, setting the food on the nightstand next to Dave before turning to look at him. He gave the captive a small smile before reaching over and undoing the knots with practiced ease.

Dave wanted to thank the dark haired boy, who looked...eerily similar to Jake, but just nodded instead, and grabbed the bowl of soup. While he ate, the other sat down on the bed beside him, watching, and waiting for him to finish. When he did, the bowl was plucked from his hands, set back on the tray, and the other left without another word. Dave listened to the audible click of the door, sighing, and looking down at his wrists, which had been rubbed raw by that point. He cringed, standing up, and going to the bathroom to wash them a little so that they, hopefully, didn't get infected.

The water stung, but it brought some relief to his aching body, and he dried them off before leaving the bathroom. He wasn't tired, but he assumed that it had to be late, so he knew that either needed to sleep, or stay awake until dinner came the next day. However, he had a sinking feeling that he'd fall asleep before then, and he didn't want to completely throw off his internal clock. So, before bed, he ran himself through a couple of exercises, knowing that he'd need to keep in shape in case an opportunity to flee ever arose. That ended and he took a shower to rinse off the sweat, getting out, and sighing as he threw his old clothes back on, since he didn't seem to have any others.

Slowly, he got into bed, and laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling as his mind raced, and refused to slow down. He groaned, rolling to his side, and forcing his eyes closed in an attempt to get some sleep that wouldn't come.

 


End file.
